


Odi et Amo

by virtigo



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: -Ish, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Violence, Clay | Dream is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Denial of Feelings, Dream Smp, Light Angst, Light Pining, M/M, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Trust Issues, Vengeance Era, some dialogues from streams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29487906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtigo/pseuds/virtigo
Summary: I hate and I love. Why I do this, perhaps you askI know not, but I feel it happening and I excruciate-Catullus, carmen LXXXV
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

As soon as their skin so much as brushes together, he pulls back. 

The tingly shock that ran up his hand wasn’t supposed to be there. He felt it yet he shouldn’t have. Not with the man standing before him. Not with the only man who could actually defeat him; not with the man who may very well be lying to his face right now. 

Not with Technoblade.

He looks down and his skin has turned a lighter color where Techno’s hand had just been, the imprint still tingling as it slowly quietnes. There’s no mistaking such a sign. A soulmate’s mark.

Dream shuts his eyes and turns his back to Techno. It’s ok. It’s ok, this means nothing. It means absolutely nothing when he feels nothing but rivalry for Techno; when Techno’s still in debt with him because of how he brought Carl back to him and paved his way to escaping execution. It means nothing when he can still control him.

He looks over his shoulder and composes himself. For the first time he sees confusion flash over Techno’s eyes, he’s shifting his weight uncomfortably. He definitely felt the shock too. 

“If you catch wind of Tommy, let me know” he clenches his still buzzy hand, “y’know, you owe me, a little bit.”

“It’s true” Techno stares at him intently but doesn’t miss a beat “You don’t gotta worry, Dream, I’m a person that believes in absolute reciprocity.”

“That’s good,” Dream looks around the room one last time, wonders how much he believes that and knows he can’t trust anyone “Alright, well, nice to see you.” 

He opens the door for himself and dives in the stingy embrace of the snow.

“Techno?” right, Tommy, “is he-is he gone?”

Techno moves to the windows, “No,” he sighs knowing Tommy will be safe for a little longer, “he’s still outside”.

He lets his eyes wander in the dark. Dream’s figure sticks out in the snow, a stark contrast against the pure white, but he too quickly fades into the darkness of the conifers. 

Another sigh leaves his lips. His hand stays clenched against his chest, the pale blotch of skin securely hidden away. 

Tommy definitely can’t see it.

-

Letting himself fall into bed at last, he allows his muscles to relax and feels how they softly melt into the mattress. From the floors below he can overhear Tommy’s hushed motions of getting ready to sleep too and his eyelids gently flutter shut. 

A few times, he shuffles around, tries to find a comfortable position. He shifts and pulls the covers up to his face before kicking them off and bristling in the cold. With a groan he brings himself to sit up and lights a candle by his bed table. He watches as it flickers, shudders and trembles in the dark. The warmth isn't much but as it radiates from the flame it calms his jumbled mind. 

For the first time, he raises his hand and lets himself look at it. Really look at it.

It can’t be. 

The skin of his palm is somewhat paler than what surrounds it and Techno still can’t wrap his head around how something like this could happen. 

Dream. Of all people. Dream. 

Surprisingly, he doesn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. Actually, he finds himself being quite neutral to it all. Memories from his early teenage years resurface weakly and he almost laughs at himself. Of when he used to think the idea of having a soulmate wasn’t entirely stupid and useless. He used to believe the concept alone was so magical. To have a person who’s just perfect for you and you alone. Someone who you’ll definitely click with and feel just right. The promise of having someone truly accept you for who you are. To never be left behind, alone. To really belong.

He scoffs. How foolish. 

He isn’t even completely sure when exactly he stopped being so dumb and naive but he’s glad he did. He’s glad and the fact that he’s supposedly linked to someone like Dream, someone so power-hungry and despicable. So dictatorial. So manipulative. It’s just yet another reconfirm. 

He has Carl, he has Phil, and now he has Tommy. He doesn’t need anyone else. 

Actually. Everyone could leave and he wouldn’t need anyone else. Wilbur has left him and here he is, still alive, still surviving, still coming up on top of every fight. Victorious.

He doesn’t need anyone. 

Everyone will betray you.

With these soothing thoughts in mind, he blows the candle out, curls back in bed and lets himself ease down and drift off. He needs to rest.

-

It had been a long day. He’d gone gather some resources and checked up on his dogs. Sneaking into L’Manberg wasn’t necessarily hard. Considering how much trouble they’d gone just to make themself a nation, they really should put more effort into protecting its territory. Not that Technl complains. Quite the opposite actually. Most of the time, it wasn’t hard.

But this time he’d actually been spotted. He hadn’t been as careful as usual. He’d let himself get used to traveling there and back unbothered that when they started chasing him down he almost remembered that yeah, he isn’t really supposed to be able to go to L’Manberg that easily. 

It hadn’t mattered in the end. He’s back home now and all his chores are done. Moreover Tommy has scurried off somewhere so he won’t be around to give him a headache. Techno isn’t really sure if he can trust Tommy enough to venture out by himself without getting into trouble but he guesses he’ll find out.

After disregarding his robe, he walks up to the last floor and skims the books on the shelves. The library isn’t that big but it fits just right in his bedroom and a good book is really what he needs right now to relax. At the very least, he deserves it after the tiring day.

With inquisitive eyes, he reads the titles on the spines until one catches his eye. 

‘The Argonautica’ by Apollonios Rhodios. And just next to it ‘Medea’ by Euripide.

He hasn’t read them in a good while and wonders which one to pick. He’s always been fascinated by Greek mythology. Does he want to read about a young Medea falling head over heels for a man just to defy his own father, leave her homeland and kill her brother? Or does he want to read about her grown up, betrayed by the husband she gave everything up for? See her turn into a revenge-seeking woman wounded so much by love that she turns to murdering her own children and feeding them to their unfaithful father?

Both are a good representation of how love can’t bring but pain, but Techno grips the spine of the second book with decision and pulls it out of its tightly fitted space.

As he walks back down the stairs he thinks about how interesting the ancient’s view of love was. And he agrees. Love isn’t but a destructive force. It makes you sick and can drive people crazy. 

From the window he sees his bee farm and is reminded of how bees were considered superior beings because of how they were thought to reproduce without sex. A silly thought, he considers, but still an intriguing one. He sometimes wonders how they’d come up with such things. 

Well, of course they didn’t really have the means to know better, but the hypotheses they substituted reality with were what really surprised him. Some really took a great deal of imagination.

Walking away from the window, he plops himself into the chair he keeps by the fireplace and flips the book open. Some dust swifts up but he easily swats it away and gets comfortable. Then, he easily lets himself slip in Euripide’s words, lets the story gain his whole attention as he imagines the nurse narrating Medea’s misfortunes and sorrows.

Just as the minutes tick by and the sun, already low in the sky, dips even farther down, dragging a veil of purplish pink across the horizon, Techno’s ears perk up. He reaches for his sword just as knuckles against wood resonate through the room. Armed, he makes his way to the door and pulls it open.

There, in his dark armor stands Dream. Techno rolls his eyes dismissively and goes back to sit in his chair, book leisurely sited in his hands once again.

“Hello!” Dream strides in, with that characteristic arrogance of acting as if he owns the place. Techno should stop letting such behavior slide.

“How’re you on this lovely evening?” He says instead, already going back to reading where he was forced to leave off.

“Good, good,” Dream’s words are calculated as he looks around, drags his eyes across the furniture and studies the details. “Well…” he trails off for a moment, “I know Tommy has been here.”

Techno blinks. 

“Oh Zeus! And Earth and Light, do you hear the chanted prayer of a wife in her anguish!” He reads off the book, loud and obnoxious, after a moment of awkward silence. Dream bursts out laughing as Techno dramatically impersonates his character. “Go on, go on Dream, sorry.”

“Ok,” he composes himself, “listen—“

“Mighty Themis! Dread Artemis!”

“I don’t—“

“Oh what an evil power love has in people’s lives!”

“What is wrong with you!” He shouts, amusedly bewildered, “You ready?” Techno nods, Dream inhales and seems to be about to speak again.

“Then why resist!” He emphasizes“Why will you not get out!”

“Oh my god,” Drea brings a hand to his mask and suppresses a laugh as he speaks through it, “You are so annoying.”

Techno snickers and sits back in his chair, “So this was a nice conversation,” he stands up, closes the book while keeping a finger between the pages and pushes Dream towards the door with a hand against the back of his armor. “Yeah, I’m gonna go back to my book now so if you could just leave that’d be fantastic,” he opens the door “Oh, and tell me when you think of a wish, I’m magical.”

Dream grabs onto the door on his way out and looks back from behind his shoulder, voice serious again “You don’t want to have a conversation, Techno?” 

Techno shrugs and starts closing the door “Well I mean, I mean if you want to cash out on the wish we can have a conversation.”

“No, no, I don’t wanna cash in the wish,” he pushes a hand against the door closing in on him “Here’s something that will catch your attention,” Techno goes to open his book again “May I remind you of the story of Theseus! Do you know—do you know how he dies?”

“He gets yeeted off of a cliff by a guy.”

Dream stifles a chuckle, “By what guy?”

“Dude, what is this class?” 

“Ok, ok,” He lets a few amused breaths past his lips, “He gets yeeted off by the guy who is the king of the island he took refuge on after he got exiled. And I’m not saying this for no reason, y’know I may come here at some point, as I know where Tommy is—“

“Oh where is he, now?”

“Com’on Techno, you really think that you can fool me?” He steps closer and Techno doesn’t step back. “Look at this!” He steps in, once again uninvited, and rushes down the stairs where Tommy’s to-do list is scribbled in a notebook with messy letters and poor grammar “‘Sell foot’? ‘Build tower’? ‘Therapy’? Spelled wrong!” 

“It’s a hard word, it’s a hard word.”

“You love literature!” He pauses in disbelief, “Listen, the other day I didn’t say anything because I just need to know where he is and that he won’t be in L’Manberg. That’s all I want.”

And then he opens the door to finally leave but a stray chicken comes barging in. Techno drags a hand across his face where an exasperated smile starts to stretch, what’d he say on having to stop Dream from navigating his home as he pleases? 

“Oh, do you wanna keep him as a pet?” Dream crouches down, studying the animal as it uselessly flaps around the room, “Seems a rare breed, it’s kinda cool.” 

Techno shrugs and shakes his head so Dream tries to catch the chicken to probably get rid of it but it ends up running away just before he can secure his grasp. It shoogles and warples around before squeezing itself between a chest and the wall. Pitifully, it flails its legs in an attempt at fleeing but fails furiously. 

Dream snorts a laugh and shakes his head “Now you have no choice, it’s perfect!” 

Techno huffs a laugh of his own and extends a hand to help the other up, “Well, it’s there forever now.” Dream laughs through a ‘yeah’ but the carefree sound dies down when he looks up just to be met by Techno’s hand. 

Techno’s eyes move to his own hand too and he realizes where Dream’s got caught. 

His palm. 

The one with the mark. 

He could pull it back, but it’d just make it more awkward, showing that he is affected by it, so he just shakes it a bit as if to say ‘you gonna take it or nah?’ And Dream does end up taking it. He slides his own marked hand into Techno’s warm one and hoists himself up. He clears his throat and pats his pants to get rid of the folds. Techno just stands there, blinks and wonders what’s going on behind Dream’s mask.

“Well,” he turns towards the door, “I’m sure that I’ll probably see you… tomorrow? Or... I guess another day.” 

“Sure.” Techno just says, tone void of any particular intention of either seeing him again or not but knowing it’ll inevitably happen. 

He follows Dream to the door and closes it behind him when he leaves. Then he walks back up the stairs to the ground floor. As he does, he sighs for no particular reason, tries not to think about the awkwardness clinging to his skin. 

The sky is darkening fast. Tommy will be back soon. He better start getting something ready for dinner.

-

The next couple days go by unnoticed. They roll by and out of sight before anything relevant really gets the chance to happen but Techno knows how to treasure days like this. 

Still, he goes hunting; sneaks into L’Manberg every once in a while to check on his hounds and make sure they are safe and well fed; refines his brewing skills. One day as he goes back home from L’Manberg, seeing the few posters hung around, he thinks about adding some of his own. Propaganda. He sketches down a few ideas once he gets home. He doesn’t see Dream again and he isn’t sure why he’s consciously aware of it.

The rest of the time he reads and talks to Tommy about their plans. 

In the short time he’s finished Medea and has thrown himself into a reread of the Iliad, a classic. Even there though, a poem about war, wrath, glory, love had found its way into making a mess. Helen of Sparta. He wonders whether he’d have fallen for her too.

Gradually, he’s also getting accustomed to Tommy’s presence. The kid doesn’t seem to despise him as much as he’d had before but Techno knows Tommy needed someone to blame at the time. He also knows that in Tommy’s eyes he hasn’t been the best of allies in the past, but he’s aware of his actions and of their reasons so he doesn’t feel like he’s betrayed anyone. And even if he did, Pogtopia did just the same to him. Used him as a weapon and then walked all over his very clearly stated values. But that’s the past. Wilbur is gone and Tommy needs a place to stay. The butcher army tried to have its way with him and failed and that’s all that matters.

Sometimes he misses Phil.

More than sometimes, actually. He tries to pay him a visit on every trip to L’Manberg he takes but getting to the middle of the country unnoticed is harder and way more dangerous than lurking around the sewers and outskirts. He’ll get him out of there. He has to.

He and Tommy, maybe. Yes, maybe just maybe Tommy could be more than an annoying kid he’s showing mercy to. Maybe an actual friend. Maybe. Maybe not. His reckless impulsivity and uncontrollable passion could easily get him killed. Those aren’t qualities Techno usually would look for in a friend but never say never, he supposes.

Regardless, the plan is going well and his first priority at the moment is getting all of his weapons back.

And so he goes back to L’Manberg with Tommy once again. They find a guy and neither of them hesitate in using him to get what they want in exchange of letting him go unharmed. The guy is innocent and clearly shitting himself the whole time. Do actions like these make Techno a bad person? Maybe. He doesn’t care. He needs his weapons back. And he gets them. Most of them at least. At the very minimum, he did say sorry.

“Hey,” Tommy starts on their way back, “Tubbo really went ‘I left you’ and didn’t even bat an eye, man.” Techno acknowledges him with a hum but doesn’t know how to bring healing to such a wound. “He was my best friend and he didn’t even—he didn’t even—“

“It is lame,” he says, lamely, “but, y’know maybe with the whole exile thing, not visiting you, not doing anything, leaving you to possibly die in some far away land,” he places a hand to Tommy’s shoulder hoping he can understand, “maybe he doesn’t see you a friend, Tommy.” Sometimes you have to know how to let go.

Tommy looks up at him, eyes glazed with sadness and a resignation so unlike his free spirited nature. 

“And, y’know,” Techno tries tentatively, “he’s a government official. This is what I’ve been trying to say this whole time. Power, Tommy, power. It corrupts people. Why make a government that will only bring division and inequality, that will only ruin perfectly fine people and create all this conflict we are trying to put an end to?”

Tommy weights his words and seems to really reflect on them. Considering their widely different ideals, for now, it’s enough and Tommy himself eventually prompts them to keep on walking. 

“I’m sorry—it’s just—y’know—“

“It’s ok, Tommy” he tries to reassure, “it’s ok to take a bit to process I too,” he wonders how much of himself he should reveal, how vulnerable he wants to allow himself to seemin Tommy’s eyes, “was betrayed and used by pretty much everyone that I thought was my friend so I can relate.” He shrugs, nonchalant.

“I get it…” is Tommy’s weak response.

They keep walking silently when suddenly Tommy jumps. Techno draws his sword and Tommy’s shield is raised.

Dream.

Right in their way.

“If I remember correctly.” He starts, venom dripping from his tongue, “You are not supposed to be here, Tommy.”

“You—you screwed me over!” Tommy says, Techno makes sure to keep close. “You manipulated me.”

“I was the only one who visited you. The only person that was your friend. And look what you did,” he gestures with painfully plastic sadnesses “You are not supposed to be here and you are causing problems.”

“I think—I think you are scared of me. Because I’m the only one who goes against you. That’s what it was about, containing me.”

“Listen,” Dream meanders dangerously close, “You are gonna come with me or I’m gonna burn your disc.” Tommy steps back, gasping for a comeback.

“Oh, well, that’s gonna be a problem, Dream,” Techno speaks up, taking a protective step in front of Tommy, “because this guy’s with me.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, we are business partners, working for our mutual benefit.” Briefly he looks to the side “Unless you wanna call in that favor, that is.”

Dream looks at him for a long moment before declining, “As long as you are sure.” He says and slowly walks away. Techno’s eyes follow his trail before he disappears into the vegetation and Techno is left with a weirdly weird feeling of uncertainty and a hyped Tommy bragging about Dream’s retreat. 

Techno wonders why Dream didn’t fight.

-

“‘Therapy’ is a hard word to spell, isn’t it?”

Techno’s axe comes crashing down onto the wood and is left there, firmly wedged into the log. A smirk tugs at his lips and he looks back, where Dream’s unsatisfied voice is coming from.

“Bothers you?”

Dream tsks pushing himself off the tree he was leaning on with a kick. “Couldn’t care less,” he mumbles, “You are just making things harder for yourself. First of all by lying to me.”

“And why would that be?” Techno grips his axe again and resumes cutting wood. He’s running low and his fire won’t burn by itself. Him and Tommy had come back from L’Manberg after their confrontation with Dream not so long ago and here he is again, being a pain in the ass.

“You don’t want to be against me, Techno.” Dream clenches his fists, irritated, “Especially not when I could ask you to do anything and you’d have to do it.”

“Ask away.”

“Not now. I have something planned for you.”

“Then until you do decide to go through with it stop acting as if you have any power over me.”

“I’ve never been unkind to you.” Dream steps close to him and pulls at his arm to get his attention.

“Then why show up here for no good reason.”

“I wanted to…” Techno raises his eyebrows, expectedly, “to tell you I knew, Technoblade, I knew you were lying to me and Tommy was with you.”

“Aw, you need some kind of validation from me, Dream?” 

“Fuck off.” He draws his sword. Why’d he come here. Techno wonders. “Fight me, Techno.”

“You really want me to lose that badly today, don’t you?” 

The sword is swung his way but he’s quick to pick his own up and block the blow. A loud clang shakes the air. Metal vibrating and clicking in the midst of the quiet forest. He pushes forward and notices Dream isn’t as stable as usual. His usual light steps and calculated, well angled hits are slower and harder. Strength over precision, not his usual style. Techno can see it. He isn’t thinking with a cool mind. 

He intends to fully exploit it. 

Dream brings his sword high again with a groan. Techno blocks another strike with his horizontal blade and forces Dream’s to the side. Then, he lunges forwards. He may have cut, he may have not. Part of him cares when it shouldn’t and so he makes sure his next shot does cut.

Dream steps back, a pained gasp falling from his lips. He’s unbalanced. Clearly unsteady. This isn’t how he fights. Techno knows. He knows so he stops Dream’s next swing with relative ease. His own sword buzzes in his hand, but by rotating his wrist a bit he manages to push the other one away from his face enough to land a kick to Dream’s legs. Unceremoniously Dream falls back, hands latching onto Techno’s cloak so he comes following him down to the ground too. 

Blood Dream’s wound and the wet earthy scent of the ground pierce his heightened senses. He goes to push himself up but Dream gets a good grasp on him and rolls them both, switching their positions. He holds his hand up and goes for Techno’s face. Painfully, it manages to land. Copper, metallic. In the haze Techno remembers the sword he’s still gripping and uses it to force Dream off of him and switch them around once more. Dream’s arm stretches across the ground. It trashes around through the fallen, dead needle leaves and remains of snow. His sword, somewhere around there. Techno catches him. He pins his wrist, pushes it into the dirt. His sword goes grazing bear millimeters shy of Dream’s jugular.

His breathing is ragged, lungs burning, “I win, Dream.” Below him, he feels Dream’s muscles struggle and contract, his legs kick out and his chest rises and falls too fast for it to be comfortable “Careful.” He warns, blade ever so closer to slice through the skin. 

“Get off me.” Comes, raspy and low.

“No.” Techno makes sure to let Dream feel his weight, “Now tell me what you came here for.”

Dream stays quiet for a moment, breathing gradually slowing down. “Impulsive decisions.”

“Being so reckless,” Techno says, hair falling over his face from where it escaped the ties, “it’s not like you.”

“How would you know, huh?”

Annoyed, Techno let’s go of Dream’s wrist to grip into the lower edge of his insufferable mask. Dream jolts and tries to move his head out of Techno’s grasp. 

“What are you—don’t—!” 

And it comes flying off. Just like that. With one smooth motion it’s thrown in the air. Techno doesn’t care where it lands. 

Emerald. For an instant, wide and clear. Before Dream harshly turns his head to the side, a trickle of blood down his neck making him hiss.

Techno stares in awe. Finally. Finally he can see what’s behind that stupid mask of his and—Techno is—he’s surprised. His eyes rake all over Dream’s face. The straight line of his nose, the sharp cut of his jaw, the sprinkle of freckles crossing over his bridge. Full, furrowed eyebrows and eyes of a shiny, shaky green.

“Happy now?” It’s throaty and as unharmful as Techno’s ever heard Dream’s voice. Maybe in this moment he doesn’t entirely hate his words.

He pulls himself together and doesn’t answer, just gets off of Dream and lays next to him in the chill night. It had been evening when he’d gone out. By now the sun has fully set, only the stars, bright and pretty, shine their faint light on top of the treetops. Dream doesn’t move to pick his mask back up. 

“Why are you making impulsive decisions?” His voice is softer than intended and his eyes wander across the dark mantle of the sky. The moon too, shines its stolen beams.

“I was…” Dream closes his eyes and exhales deeply, “I was—I thought you are supposed to be the one to go to, y’know that whole…” soulmates thing, “I was lonely.” Barely a whisper.

Techno breathes out a breath of his own and turns his face to look at Dream’s profile. “Don’t you have those friends of yours or something?”

“Attachments,” Dream’s eyes close shut. “Can’t have any.”

Techno hums and looks back up. He could poke more and point out how the logic is flawed, but decides against it, it’s none of his business “Hungry?” 

Dream nods and Techno drags himself to sit up, he brings a hand to swipe across his lip and looks at the blood that smears over it. The pain blossoms from a cut there and radiates all the way to his teeth. With a sideways glance he notices Dream clutching his arm. 

“Start a fire?” Techno gestures to the wood he was cutting before and makes his way to his axe where his sack is too. He fishes out a bottle of water and gauze. He drinks from the first, making sure to clean the cut, and throws the second in Dream’s direction “Catch.” 

He does and then Techno passes him the water too.

“Thank you.” Comes softly as Dream washes the wound and bandages it as best as he can.  
Techno knows Dream knows how to treat a wound even with so little, he doesn’t need to check. Also, it’s Dream’s fault for wanting to get his ass kicked, he doesn’t need to feel responsible for it.

When he’s done, Dream picks the wood up and starts to get the fire burning helping himself with his flint and steel. In the meanwhile, Techno searches his sack for the strips of dried meat he always keeps on himself. They are supposed to be for emergencies, but he guesses it’s fine to waste a few on Dream. 

Tommy has plenty of food at home, he’ll figure something out. Techno doesn’t need to entirely baby sit him, he thinks, as he picks the berries and nuts he likes to gather whenever he travels the forest before going to sit by the little flourishing flame. Dream adds some more wood, fetches his mask and sits down too, not too far away but not too close either. 

Getting comfortable by the bonfire Techno baths in the warmth and lets it seep into his cold hands and face. It’s a nice relief from the biting weather and seeing finally becomes easier. He passes half of what he picked out to Dream and lets his eyes linger a bit as he can see his face more clearly in the light. The fire draws a gentle line of tangerine highlights across the outlines of his features and the light twinkles in his eyes, now tinged by amber speckles.

Dream thanks him again, takes what he’s offered and looks into the flickering flames. His face is calmly blank, a jarring contrast to the uneasy feeling brought on by the smirk his mask always makes him wear.

Tearing his eyes away, Techno reaches a hand to his hair ties and undoes them, lets everything fall down as he figures loose hair is better than the messy half up-half down style he’d accidentally ended up with.

“I’ve never seen you with your hair down.” Dream comments, tone flat and unreadable.

Techno smirks, “You like it?”

Rolling his eyes, Dream hides his mouth on a choked chuckle “What is wrong with you!”

Techno’s lips soften into a smile and he pops a berry into his mouth. It’s tart. Sharp. With a sweet, mitigated aftertaste. It lingers almost long enough before elusively fleeing as he bites into the jerky again.

“Well, I guess we’re even now,” he shrugs, “I’d never seen you without your mask either.”

Dream frowns. His fingers twist in the grass and he throws the yellowish blades Techno’s way “Yes and you weren’t supposed to!”

Techno titters “Com’on I won’t tell anyone,” he taps the grass away and picks at it where it gets caught in the fur of his cloak, “It can be our little secret.” Dream snorts with an intentful tilt of his head, “Besides,” _I like you better like this_ , “you do look better like this.”

“Oh, do I, now?” His eyebrows shoot up, a sly curve to his lips. Techno stands and goes to gather the wood he’d cut.

“Look like less of a cockalorum.” 

“Aw, that’s a big word Techno.” He cooes annoyingly. 

Techno just shakes his head and throws the wood into the sack, “Do you even know what it means?”

“Of course I do!” He almost sounds offended, voice raised, “Boastful, arrogant—“

Techno pulls out a torch, “You really are self-aware, Dream, wow! I’m amazed!” He soaks the bundle of rags in oil and lets it lit up in the bonfire, Dream jumps to his feet, mask in hand.

“You fucking—“ he clenches his fists and seems just about ready to leap, Techno shoots a sneer his way and doesn’t budge, “Actually, think whatever, I don’t care.”

“Of course not, of course, Dream.”

The mask is clasped back in place and they put out the fire, Techno’s torch being the only efficient source of light left. 

The walk back to home doesn’t take long. Somewhere along the way they bicker again but the farther they stray from the cover of the forest, the more the lightheartedness slips behind and fails to catch up. 

There’s no light coming from the windows. Tommy must either be asleep or in his room. It doesn’t really make a difference as Techno stops at the bottom of the stairs to the main entrance.

He thinks for a moment, “Where even is your house?”

“Somewhere.” Dream shrugs, brings his arms to hug himself in the cold. It’s starting to snow. Techno’s eyebrow arches doubtfully. “I do have a house, Techno” Dream deadpans, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Techno shakes his head, a hint of a snicker. “Keep this,” he pushes his torch forward, “it’s dark.”

Dream’s unresponsive for a moment, seemingly fixating his stare on Techno’s outstretched torch. He doesn’t retreat and eventually Dream does accept it. Dragging his feet up the steps, Techno starts, is frustratingly aware of Dream’s burning eyes on his back. Briefly, he is stopped in his tracks by Dream’s voice, no more than a surprisingly warm breath against cold glass.

“Goodnight, Technoblade.”

“Goodnight, Dream.”


	2. Chapter 2

He does end up making the posters. 

He sits in his room and draws them out as best as he can. He really isn’t an artist but they’ll make do in the remote possibility of anyone being persuaded to join his side. As many resources as possible are needed indeed. Taking down a whole country by yourself isn’t the easiest. 

Maybe not entirely by himself though. Techno does know Tommy doesn’t share his own views but maybe he can talk it into him enough to finally make him see clear. That kid is still trying to go back to a reality he’s been through and barely survived. Ostracized and abandoned by all his loved ones he still wants to go back. Techno almost wants to scoff. But he refrains. Maybe there is something admirable in Tommy’s stubbornness. Not giving up on people and all. But, com’on everything has a limit and in Techno’s eyes L’Manberg has definitely surpassed it. Shred right through it when they couldn’t even let him in peace after he swore off his violent methods. 

He’ll have to talk to Tommy.

The conversations they could possibly have rings through his head a couple times as he brings his paintbrush against the paper. Every once in a while his eyes wander up and through the window. The sparkly, candid expanse of fresh snow runs wild under his eyes. It paints the top of the mountains in the background and hugs the treetops. It had been snowing non stop the last couple days and the sky was finally clear for the first time.

Techno kind of wishes the white could be tainted by the pretty familiar splotch of armor and green clothes before wanting to mentally slap himself. He’s being ridiculous. Why would it happen and why would Techno not be against it. A torch isn’t really something worth returning anyway.

With a snort he tightens his grip on the paintbrush and dips it deeper into the ink. From the force it sputters out of the little bottle and probably stains his table. Great. Enough drawing for today.

He roughly gathers a few posters that dried in the meanwhile, rolls them up and puts them in his backpack. 

He’s just a bit lonely, he reasons as he packs his sword and a few potions too, just in case.

Yes, he’s just lonely and Dream has been the only source of mild entertainment available as of lately. Of course Tommy is around, but he's just a kid. Techno reasonably would rather someone his age. 

And that is why today is a big day.

He’s finally managed to get into contact with Phil and he’s going to fucking break him out. Phil has been digging a tunnel under his house that links him to the catacombs through which he can escape. He will escape.

And yes his age gap with Phil is double the one with Tommy. It doesn’t matter, he tells himself, Phil is Phil and a rule always needs an exception.

It’s all Dream’s fault anyway. Why did he have to show up out of the blue like that and wear such a different appearance to his usual overconfident, calm and collective self? 

Techno also wants to curse himself for wondering how far Dream’s house or wherever he stays is. It was pitch black and snowing. Freezing cold. 

Next time he shall send him off with a kick in the ass and absolutely no torch.

Once he has everything he might need packed, he heads out, lets the bite of the cold cool his mind and makes his way to L’Manberg.

Guards are patrolling the area. Getting too close would be risky but he doesn’t need to. He just has to distract them, make sure to give Phil enough time to get to his secret tunnel and come back out to the surface. Techno’s never been in the catacombs but Phil gave him a general idea of where he would end up and they’d agreed on a reunion location.

The main threats are the actual president himself and that new guy Techno doesn’t really know—was part of the butcher army though. Getting them to focus on him as opposed to controlling the center of L’Manberg really isn’t hard. They have no reason to believe Phil is plotting anything. He’s been his best behavior and Techno is known to show up and mess around anyway, his presence nothing suspicious.

And so he not so accidentally gets caught putting posters up the walls and stalls for time when they understandably try to get him. He is still wanted after all. But it doesn’t matter, that’s exactly where Techno wants them and so he keeps them there just as long as he needs to. Swords are eventually drawn and he’s confident he can take them both. Still, when he’s sure he’s let enough time run by he just makes a break for it. And they run just behind him. Quickly, he tries to think of the best place to lose them and it’s just obvious. The forest. No one knows these paths as well as he does.

He weaves his way through the dense trees. Twigs, roots, dried leaves. It could be easy to slip. Very easy, maybe they will. He hopes they will as cluttering and screaming from not far behind reaches his ears. Too close. They are still too close. This could all turn very ugly very soon. He forces his legs to move faster, push stronger. He darts past a big tree and makes sure not to proceed in a straight line, breath trying to rush through his lungs as he consciously keeps it controlled. The sounds of crushed leaves and hurried voices slowly start to fade in the distance but he knows better than to look back to check. He just keeps moving, jumps over a root he almost missed and catches himself from tripping as he lands.

At last, he sees the bright light of the open peek through the trees and finally exits the forest, heartbeat ramping up and breath hotter on his lips. He’s losing speed, but he still keeps a lighter jog up—he should be safe anyway, his ears can’t pick up anything anymore—but, most importantly, he has to make his way to the spot Phil should already be at by now.

When he gets there— he just- he isn’t there.

Alert, he’s eyes dash around for any trace, any hint that could tell him if Phil was here at all. Frantically, he pats his pockets for his compass. Maybe he got the direction wrong. 

Suddenly, arms are grasped around his chest and he leaps forward, unsheathes his sword and—

“You’re really—“ weapon lowered, he finally lets himself catch his breath, “You ambushed me!”

Phil cracks a smile, opens his arms and creeps closer. Techno scowls but hugs back. Phil’s embrace is warm and cozy and—he really did miss him.

“I missed you.” Phil says.

“You—you got me so worried, ‘I missed you’ won’t fix it.” 

With a playful nudge to his shoulder and a ruffle to his hair, Phil shoots him a laugh. 

Techno lets himself smile too. It feels easy.

-

He can’t stop pacing around the room. Should he tell him? It can’t be a bad idea, right? Phil would understand. But why bother? It’s not important, he doesn’t need to know. 

Techno walks up to the chest by the fireplace and looks for some sugar. Making a few potions seemed like a good distraction but it turned out to not be distracting enough. When he finds it, he walks back to the brewing stand, adds it and slams his hand on the table. 

These stupid thoughts really aren’t planning on leaving him alone.

“You ok?” Phil’s head pokes from the stairway. He makes his way up.

“Yeah?”

“You seem troubled.” Phil tilts his head, brows knitted together before his eyes fall on the potion Techno is making. He follows his gaze and—

“Fuck—“ bubbles and foam overflow from the rim of the bottle, they swell and drip down the sides. Hecticly, Techno tries to salvage it, adds a spider eye, but it just keeps making a mess, a weird fume floating up. 

Whatever. 

“Well, something did happen, it’s really not—I don’t know, it’s—no big deal, just—“ he knows he either does it now or he’ll never do it. Quick and painless. Hand raised, his fingers unclench and uncover his palm.

Phil looks at him for a moment, at his hand, before his eyebrows jump in surprise and a smile splits his lips. “Who’s the lucky one?”

“Lucky…” he scoffs hiding his hand again, “that’s the problem.” Phil’s smile falters. Techno’s eyes lower again to the potions, he has to dispose of the mess. “it’s…” he can feel his face tingle. He’s not used to this. Maybe he can still pull back. He doesn’t need to share it with anyone. He doesn’t have to say it. His grip tightens around the bottle. There’s no reason to feel embarrassed. No reason to feel anything. He didn’t pick this for himself and there’s no reason to feel affected. 

Quick and painless. Or almost. 

“It’s Dream.”

Silence. 

It’s nerve wracking. His blood runs colder. Or hotter. He can’t pick. But he makes sure to keep his eyes glued to the foam he’s cleaning up, focusing too much and too little on the task at same time.

“Well…” Phil starts, after an agonizingly slow moment, “maybe it’s not that terrible?”

“What?” Shocked, he looks back up, “Dream.”

Phil chuckles, “I heard you.”

“Did you not see what he did to Tommy? And—“ He takes a frightful step back, brows furrowed, Phil shouldn’t condone of this, “and just—“ he tries to think of something, usually it’s so easy, “just everything about him.”

“I know, but” he walks closer and Techno walks farther back, “it’s just a scar like any other. You have plenty of them, one more, one less, what does it matter?” Phil shrugs, a reassuring smile on his lips “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

Techno just stands there, stares at him and then at the floor. “I know...” he trails off.

“But?”

“I just... I thought I’d hate it, but...” he frowns, “I don’t, not really.”

“Do you like it?”

Does he? He lowers his head, wishes he had his hair down. He doesn’t want to be seen like this. “No, I just—I think it’s... interesting.”

“Just let it be interesting then,” Techno’s scowl grows deeper, as if it was that easy, “you don’t have to do anything about it, you can just let it do its thing. If something happens, it happens if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.” Again, he steps closer, soothes a caring hand on his tense shoulder “Alright?”

Techno ponders for a moment, looks deep into Phil’s eyes and he’s right, he’s always right 

“Ok.” It’s not much, but it’s something. 

Phil pulls him closer and Techno feels his muscles stiffen before he tells himself—it’s Phil, Phil is safe—and he lightly brings an arm up to reciprocate. 

“Phil, I don’t need anyone else.” He mutters.

“Ow, everyone needs someone.”

A pause. 

“I only need you then, you’re all I’ve got left.”

“Not everyone is or will be out to get you.”

“Dream definitely is.”

“I wasn’t talking about Dream.”

Techno presses his lips together. Keeping them from wavering isn’t as easy as it should be. Sure not _everyone_ but Techno’d also rather be safe than sorry. No one can be trusted.

“I can make dinner for tonight, maybe you should rest.”

“I’m fine.” 

“That’s great,” Phil’s smiles, tender and welcoming, “but it’s also ok if you aren’t.”

Techno just nods. Phil guides him to sit down as he turns to put something on the fire, tries to lighten the mood.

“Phil,” he stops in his tracks and looks back at him, “we are not talking about what just happened ever again.”

-

Over the next couple days, Technk tries to ignore his conversation with Phil as much as possible. Lock it in the back of his mind and hide the key where he won’t be tempted to pick it back up. He can’t afford to be distracted by such trivial things.

But still, that wasn’t how their talk was supposed to go. Phil should've told him how bad of an idea even thinking about the whole ordeal was. But he didn’t. He didn’t tell him to embrace it but he also didn’t tell him to eradicate it before it even had the chance to blossom. 

Just let it do its own thing.

And Phil _is_ trustworthy. 

Potentially he could still be wrong though.

Doesn’t matter, he tells himself. There’s no time to dwell on such trivial things. His weapons won’t make their way back home by themselves.

So Tommy and he sneak back into L’Manberg once again. And their expedition is more profitable than he’d hoped for. Not only did they rescue his main sword, but his axe. And gathered very useful information. 

L’Manberg is hosting a festival.

“You know, Tommy,” he starts as they start making their way back, “I think it’s time I come clean with you, when I first found you in my house… I’m gonna be honest I didn’t really respect you back then,” Tommy just looks at him, ears perked, “you were kinda… loud, annoying—I thought, I thought I was just bringing you around to achieve my own ends, but I think it’s time I tell you… my real plan, Tommy,” he steps closer, “I am going to destroy L’Manverg. I am not going to rest until that country is gone for what it did to me and Phil, alright? And… I think you should join me.”

Tommy falters, brows brought together, eyes wider and searching.

“I’m telling you this because I think you are worth being honest with—L’Manberg, they’ve screwed you over as well, it’s the source of all of your problems and that’s why we need to get rid of it.

“L’Manberg… is my unfinished symphony,” Wilbur, a ghost of his memory seeping through Tommy’s furrowed features, “and once I get back my discs the melody will be over—and—why, why are you only telling me this now?”

“When I first met you I thought you were—useless and—annoying, but now you could actually be…” he breathes in, slow and gentle, “you could be, dare I say it... a friend.”

Tommy’s eyes light up, sparkles giving them life once again, “That’s all I ever wanted.”

“That country is going to be gone, you don’t have to help me, but I’m telling you, it’s in your best interest.”

“I’m gonna join you, Technoblade.” He says, sword clutched tighter in his unsteady grip “But it’s Tubbo’s home, it’s my home… it’s not finished yet.”

“This seems like the opposite of destroying it.”

“Well, you said ‘do you wanna join me?’ Yeah, I’ll join you, but—you know I need my discs.”

“I can help you get your discs, but that country is going up in smoke first opportunity.”

So, hopefully, they have a deal and the next day they are definitely attending a festival.

-

Dream.

Perched on to the half-fallen wall of the community house.

Techno steadies his feet and makes sure to hide himself better. He pulls Tommy closer what the fuck has the kid done now.

“We were this close to peace!” Dream raises his voice, tone so much fuller and harsher than the last time it met Techno’s ears. It makes him since at the jarring contrast of their last, secret encounter. “This close!”

The community house lays slumped, sprawled out on the ground, spilling over the edges of its cracked fundations. The walls, reduced to nothing but dust and debris, haphazardly hang onto the last of their structure, stretched like shredded skin onto broken metal bones.

“Dream—I-I don’t see how this comes down on us…” Tubbo tries with way too shaky words and a broken voice.

“Did you really do this?” Techno whispers, a nudge to Tommy’s side and a stern look on his face.

“No…” 

This is bad. 

Everyone is going to unify against them.

“Tubbo, you are the presidente and you have his disc. If you are not affiliated with Tommy, then give me the dumb disc.” Dream shrugs and Techno looks into the unsettling stillness of his smirking mask. A distracting flitter in his lungs reminds him of how he knows what’s behind it. He knows and he wants to see it off again. This can’t be enough anymore.

With a shouts Tommy leaps up. Techno tears his attention back to reality and fails to catch onto Tommy’s arm before he can blow up their cover.

“Does this look like something I would do?!”

There are so many of them. Can they even take them all?

“Guys!” Fuck it, “Guys, Tommy didn’t do it. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Technoblade,” Dream turns to him, tone so sickeningly poisonous, “I don't think this involves you.” He pauses, lingers in his direction before sharply looking back to Tubbo, “Just give me the disc.”

And just like that Tommy and Tubbo break into a fight. Techno is quick to draw his sword. There could be up to thirty people surrounding them but in chaos he notices Dream pass by him and not attack. Techno returns the favor. He focuses on the other swords and shields trying to close on him.

“The discs were worth more than you ever were!”

Silence. Dead, still silence soaks the air. Raised swords halt and lower. Once shouting voices turn soundless and cut out. Tommy stands motionless. Tubbo splutters for an uncatchable come back. 

“Just give him the disc…” Tommy’s hushed mutter weaves through the thick air.

Techno’s eyes slash to Tommy’s. They’re downcast and dull, the blue tint aqueous and pale. There’s no way he’s letting Dream have his second disc.

But Tubbo just reaches for the disc and it soon disappears in Dream’s grasp.

“Thank you, Tubbo!”

“Tommy…” Techno tries, hushed and alarmed, “Tommy, what are you doing?”

“Sorry—I’m-I’m—this isn’t me, this isn’t—“ he stumbles and falls over his words, slips down and crumbles into a mess of slurred apologies and jagged syllables “this is not the person I want to be—I’m so sorry…”

“Tommy,” Techno forces a smile to pull at his lips, unstable but hopefully reassuring, “we can get out of here, I can cover your escape, we can plan for another day—“ he looks around, skims the area, they really are surrounded.

“If this is who I am… I don’t wanna be me anymore, I’m—I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying?” Techno’s breath runs a bit faster past his lips. An ominous feeling cruelly tickles at his stomach, but Techno pushes it back down. They can still make it, they can still—

“I’m with Tubbo.”

What?

He catches himself. Collects his thoughts as they hurry to run wild in his mind.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear,” his voice threatens to waver dangerously, “when I said you could not help me… I meant that you could sit it out—not switch sides and fight against me!”

“Well—what-what am I doing—“

“You’re—“ A sharp, burning breath pierces through his lungs “You’re betraying me!”

“I’m worse than anyone I ever wanna be!” 

Techno steps back. His feet feel unreliable and the floor not as hard as it really is as he feels like he is about to choke. He swallows and it tears down his throat like a sharp claw ripping through a barely stitched wound.

“Think hard before you make this decision,” His words ring surprisingly cold and controlled even to his own ears, “You can’t undo this.”

“Technoblade, I hate me for what I’ve done… I’m sorry.”

Techno’s lips remain slightly agape on a speechless exhale. 

He knew it.

“No, no, no listen,” Dream’s smooth voice fills his silence, “Tubbo, you are an idiot! You just gave me the one thing that I needed to destroy L’Manberg!” The mask turns to look Techno’s way, “Techno, do you have any explosives?”

“Dream,” his eyes sparkle with new determination, “are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“Oh, I’m saying what you think I’m saying.” Techno can’t see it, but he can clearly hear Dream’s voice perfectly match his mask.

“Are you calling in that favor?”

An incredulous laugh bursts through Dream’s lips “I’m not calling in my favor—“ he emphasizes dramatically “you would—are you kidding me?! No, You would destroy it anyway.” he says, surety-laced words and the hint of a mischievous chuckle. 

“You—“ his lips spread into a smile “you know me so well, Dream.”

“L’Manberg is being destroyed.”

-

He weaves through trees and bushes. The voices and clatter have long fallen behind. Maybe they gave up on catching up or they just haven’t really tried and let them slip away. The crisp sound of crunched leaves follows him close behind and Techni finally lets his run slacken until he allows himself to catch his breath where the dense forest opens into a more sparse area.

Hands on his knees he forces his gasps to even out and Dream is soon right beside him. The sun is starting to dim down and it almost feels familiar. Them two, alone in the woods, in the chill of the twilight.

“He really…” Techno clutches at his chest as he straightens up, “Tommy really just did that—I even—I even gave him my axe…” What he’d managed to skillfully cover up is now slipping right through his meticulously built facade and pooling at his heart. He knew—he knows, he knows everyone betrays you. This feeling. So familiar yet so sour. Almost comforting in the bittersweet corroboration of being so painfully right. “I thought he was…” with scorn he laughs at his own naivety “worthy.”

“It’s Tommy and Tubbo,” Dream says after a drawn out moment, “d’you really think you could get between them?”

“But Tubbo exiled him!” His eyes widen, he takes a quick breath and keeps his voice steadier, “I gave him a place to stay, I protected him—helped him plan to get his discs back and—I don't expect anything back I just—thought…” he turns away from Dream, makes sure his face can’t be seen, why is he being so stupid, “ah, leave it.”

The silence that follows makes him fidget and want to recoil even more. With a hand he closes the cloak tighter around his neck where the cool breeze is seeping through.

“No, I get it,” Dream’s voice comes before Techno can cover his blunder up, “we can talk about it if you want to.” Out of the corner of his eye, Techno can see him shift from one foot to the other; restlessly twirl the strings of his hoodie between red-tipped fingers. 

He sighs and brings a hand to lean against the rough trunk of a tree. “It’s fine… I just… why would he rather go back to them after all they’ve done to him—I should’ve known better.”

“It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known and clearly you care—cared?—about him.”

Techno turns sharply to look back at him. He wants to deny it all.

“I could have known. In the end everyone is the same.”

Slowly, Dream raises hesitant fingers to grip at the base of his mask, takes a half step back as he does so. Techno stares at him and buzzes with anticipation. Dream just stands there for a moment, unmoving. For a second his fingers tighten on the rim on the mask before he brings his other hand to unclasp the strap on the back. As his face is finally uncovered, finally under the suffused beams of the lowered sun, Techno doesn’t really pretend he’s not looking. Dream’s eyes stay downcast for a second before meeting back up with Techno’s.

“Feels like I’m seeing something you wouldn’t usually show, it seems… fair.” He says, readjusting the hold on the mask in his hands multiple times.

“I mean…” Techno doesn’t really know what to say, “yeah?”

“Not everyone’s the same and I know I may not have the best reputation as far as honesty goes, but I, for example, wouldn’t… y’know, betray you.” He pauses before adding “I would have no reason to anyway.” at Techno’s quietness.

Techno rolls his eyes, a half a smile pulling at the corner of his lips “Comforting.”

“I mean it! Also just wanting to would be a reason!” He huffs dramatically before turning serious again, “Besides, not trusting anyone, missing out, loneliness, it’s just self-deprivation.”

Techno wants to scoff, “You’re one to talk.”

“I’m not scared of trusting others, I just...” he ponders on his words for a moment “I just choose not to let them get close.”

“Isn’t that the same though? You’re still self-sabotaging. And you did look scared when I took your mask off.”

“You’re—that-that was different,” Dream sputters “and—I was most definitely not.” he adds, almost as a second thought.

Techno shakes his head and rolls his eyes again.

“And why would I want to let anyone get near just to be a... weakness.”

“People aren’t weaknesses.”

“Anyone can exploit it.”

“But...” Phil’s words ring back in his head, “everyone needs someone.”

“You’re one to talk.” Dream mimics him.

“I do have someone.”

“Who? Phil? Anyone could use him against you.”

Techno furrows his brows and tightens a hand into the fabric of his cloak “I’d rather potentially have him as a weakness than surely not have him at all.”

“Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

“Might as well go for it then.”

Dream looks at him, face unreadable, a long silent moment beating by, “Maybe.”

-

Their conversation in the forest has felt a tartly tight sense of longing in his chest. Maybe he is missing out by overcompensating, maybe he should let things do their own things more often. After all, if he had never let himself trust Phil, he would’ve never known how warm friendship can feel. But it’s also true that Tommy just slapped the harsh sting of misplaced trust right in his face.

But what does Dream have to do with any of it. Techno really has no reason to keep his distance so much anymore. He doesn’t even have to protect Tommy from him. He doesn’t have to worry about Phil potentially being against it. He really doesn’t have anything to stop him besides himself. 

Self-deprivation.

Dream had called it.

Maybe Techno should just move on from all the people who’ve used him the past.

As he shows Dream his vault. As Dream marvels at all the hard work he put into collecting all that is needed to bring a nation down. As they scheme and plan to decide L’Manberg’s demise.

Techno yearns for an alley.

Someone he can have by his side.

He yearns for more, maybe, maybe a friend.

Dream and him, they aren’t friends, right? They can’t be, right?

At one point, he looks down at his hand when their skin accidentally brushes together, he sees Dream falter for an instant and he catches a glimpse of both their scars.

Maybe… he yearns for something more than friendship.

The thought makes him shiver.

He’s a fucking coward.

But he’s also tired. So annoyingly tired of the pinch he feels whenever Dream gets too close. Whenever he notices little things like the small scar he caught along his jaw, the bigger one by his eyebrow—makes him wonder how he got them as he’s always wearing that mask—the skin on his knuckles that seems a bit dry and ever so redder than the rest; sometimes he picks at it. Part of him just wants to let himself feel it more freely than this. 

It has him wonder whether part of Dream wants it too.

But Dream wants no attachments.

There’s no point in concerning himself so much with all of this, he concludes with a lonely sigh.

“You’re something else,” Dream says that night, glass of warm mulled wine in hand as he leans back in his seat and his eyes twinkle before the flames of the fireplace.

Techno smirk, “Am I?”

“Tommy…” He takes a sip and his eyes run down the lines of Techno's body, “at least he straight out defied me, for example, but you… you’re just unaffected.”

“I’m not playing your games Dream.” Techno returns Dream’s gaze and linger across his face. He still has his mask off, he’d kept it off all day and Techno hasn’t gotten over it yet.

“And you never will.”

“Not willingly. At least.”

Dream circles the run of his glass with a finger, keeps quiet for a moment leaving the fire to crackle and pop in the silence, “I’m ok with that.”

His eyebrows jump up, “You’re ok with that?”

Dream huffs a small chuckle “Yeah,” he takes a moment to breathe a drawn out exhale “there’s plenty of others to play with.”

“Psycho.”

“Hey!” And so he earns a kick to the shin from across the table. Techno laughs.

“Not denying it, huh.”” He taunts and Dream sends him an outraged, utterly offended feigned look. 

Such a drama queen. 

Techno just keeps grinning, “Aw, it’s ok Dream, I still accept you.”

Dream’s lips twist into a weird, faint smile, hand propped to lean against and eyes still not leaving Techno. The latter briefly looks past Dream, on the other side of the window, the sky has turned a deep shade of blue. It might snow again too.

“You should stay.” Techno dares, voice a gentle murmur.

Dream hums and something in Techno’s chest tingles excitedly.

“Well…” he stutters, “y’know Tommy’s room is empty and it’s—“

Dream gasps and excessive gasp, “You want to give me the gremlin’s room!”

A titter slips through Techno’s lips, head tilted and a smirk across his lips, “Wanna suggest something else?”

Pressing his lips to cover a bashful smile, Dream’s hand moves to hide what it can of his face, fingers splayed across his nose and barely reaching the other side, “Of-of course not—!”

“Huh,” he raises an amused eyebrow, “didn’t peg you for the shy type.”

Dream kicks him again, a murderous yet playful glint in his eyes. It kind of hurts, to be honest, but Techno finds his focus to shift to the lingering touch more so than on the pain.  
He vaguely wonders if it could bruise and somewhere in the back of his mind he isn’t entirely indifferent to the idea.

-

That night, Techno can’t get himself to fall asleep. He tosses and turns in his covers but always ends up staring up at the dark ceiling. It had been a long day and his body did feel so tired. Dream and he had made sure to plan and gather everything that needed to be ready for tomorrow and now he needs to rest or it’ll be a problem.

_Wanna suggest something else?_

His eyes screw shut. A half-hearted attempt to stop playing the conversation back in his head over and over again.

His face tingles at his own bluntness. 

How could he just say something like that?

But he wonders how many other routes the conversation could’ve taken from there. Wonders which route he would prefer. 

The thought tip toes its way around his head more than he’d usually be comfortable with. He lets himself be led along the way until he stumbles on them, in the forest, after their fight, the chill biting his face as he hovers over Dream’s squirming form. 

Techno can feel his face heat up hotter. Both of his hands go up to cover it, bring some soothing relief. His hands have always been a bit too cold.

What is he doing. Why. 

Dream is probably sound asleep four floors below him and here he is indulging in such trivial thoughts.

He brings his hands higher up to press over his eyes. He exhales. This is just inside his head. No one needs to know. It’s safe. Just in his head it’s safe.

He remembers Dream’s wrist tightly held in his hand, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. A finger comes to graze against his lip. Of course, it’s all healed up by now, but it has a little flame flicker deep in his chest. Slowly, he traces his finger down his chin and along his neck and when a hotter spark shivers up his stomach his eyes widen back open.

That’s it. Enough. 

Swiftly, he turns back around, chest flat to the mattress and covers pulled up as far as they’ll go.

There are bigger issues to think about.

-

“So, the plan,” Dream starts recapping one last time, “I need you to give me like twenty minutes, I’ll be setting everything up, they won’t see me and you have to stall for that time.”

Looking Dream in the eyes isn’t as awkward as he feared it would’ve been.

“I mean, maybe it’s a bit unfair but…” Dream says as he looks him up and down, “you’ve fought them before and you have potions and—“

With a smooth, swift motion the door swings open. Dream’s hand is quick to rush to his face, body harshly turning away from the entrance. 

“Oh—hi Dream.” Phil’s careful yet tender voice comes from the door, a hint of a smile in his voice, “don’t worry I saw nothing.”

Dream just acknowledges him with a hum and a distrait wave of his hand as, frantic, he skims over the half of the room before him, what he’s looking for obvious. Techno picks up his mask and just hands it over, he catches one last glimpse of green before the mask is soon clasped over Dream’s face.

“Phil, I don’t know if I want to bring you along for this fight because… I don’t want you to risk your life for my grudge.” Techno says.

“Well, I have a grudge against this as well—“

“There’s going to be so many people this is dangerous,” he pauses for a moment, “I don’t wanna lose you, Phil, are you sure about this?”

“One hundred per cent.”

Freedom. That’s what they are fighting for so Techno can’t possibly have the pretense of picking for him. But he can still make sure to give him the best supplies.

“I need you to infiltrate,” Techno says as he moves to gather anything that could ensure Phil’s safety, “I don’t want you to be in the main battle at first, I want you to stay in the sidelines until I send you the signal.” He holds Phil’s gaze just a moment longer, “And just stay safe.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Techne can see Dream’s mask aimed at them, at their close interaction. The cover of the ceramic makes it hard to tell where his eyes are aimed, but when Techno turns, just slightly, to make sure, the sharp jerk of Dream’s head gives him a hint.

From where he was just standing, Dream moves to the door, his pace tighter and quicker than casual. The tension in his shoulders and legs doesn’t go unnoticed under Techno’s perplexed eyes.

“You ok?”

“Yes.” Tone clipped and curt, “When you’re done let’s go already.”

And he’s out.

Weird. Uncalled for. 

Techno itches with the urge to run after him but just barely manages the impulse to scratch at it.

-

The ringing still lingers in his ears. 

Roars, screams, the hyped rush of the blood in his ears. He can almost still hear them, see the smokes and dust cascade from the buildings and loom up from the barren dirt. The way red weaved through the tendrils and tinged them, stained them with the murderous color. He hadn’t been able to see the fire then, but its reflection on the smoke had given it away. The whole country was crumbling, crashing and bending on itself turning to nothing but broken bones and exposed guts.

_You’re selfish!_

Tommy had dared scream at him, cry out to beg and struggle to be heard over the blares blasting through their ears. Tommy accuses him, yet he’d never been there for him, even Wilbur, they’d never really been there for him. Only saw him as a weapon when Teachni would have fought all just for them.

_People are above the government—_

_I am a person!_

But that’s fine. It’s all over now.

Even as they leave, make their way back to the tundra, the scenes keep playing again and again in his head. 

They’ve won. He’s euphoric. They’ve won. 

Quick and inevitable.

L’Manberg had never had a chance.

Veni vidi vici.*

As they once again make their way through the trees, stop by a plain to wait for Phil to eventually catch up, he’s buzzing with exhilaration. Adrenaline is still dashing up his pulse. and he can’t stop from looking over to Dream, wants to see the same elation be mirrored back over and over. He wants to run up to him and explode from all the energy that is yet to cool down. 

And when he does look, he just wants to look more, more, more, share this moment forever and imprint the thrill and victory in his mind. That ticklish bud rooted deep in his chest bubbling and blossoming as if swells with the triumph they’re sharing and he doesn’t want to step all over it anymore, doesn’t want to throw salt all over it in hopes of extirpating any chance at life just to feel it poke its petals back out whenever Dream gets too close again.

“Dream,” 

He thinks he’s sure, think’s it’s been long enough, thinks now or never before the rush is over. But when he does open his mouth to speak he thinks he doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t need to say it. He can just keep it to himself, secure and tucked away, locked up or just straight out forgotten. He can shut his mouth and keep on acting the way he has all this time. It doesn’t need to be said, it doesn’t matter. But it does and he has to say it. Wants to say it. Let it go and let it behind. Let it flow free so he can move on. 

His hands restlessly fidget, useless in coming up with the right words. He’s just blown up a whole fucking country, fought more man he can bother to count, all by himself and this, this is what gets to him. What has his blood thrum faster and rushed through his veins, heart fluttering a nervous beat where it usually sits untouched. 

“I was thinking—“ awkward, no, wrong word choice. He stumbles and Dream turns to fully look his way. With an unsure but forcefully quick move, Techno reaches for Dream’s wrist. The other tilts his head, a slight tension in his shoulders, but doesn’t step back. 

Feeling foolishly flustered across his face, Techno brings Dream’s hand up with own. His fingers curl around Dream’s, they don’t grab or press, just rest there, and he makes sure their marks line up. Part of him wants to pull back, run away and never think of it again. The other is so tired of listening to the first. 

“Maybe we could try?”

Dream’s fingers stand up straight, no motion to close back down onto Techno’s hand, seal the hold. His expression can’t be seen and once again Techno is reminded of how much he hates not getting the chance to read his face through the ceramic. Dream just keeps quiete. Techno keeps their hands up. He can’t just backdown half way through.

“I...” His voice is thick with something Techno can’t quite identify “I worked so hard not to care about anything.”

Ow. 

Not surprising.

Still stinging.

“But... why did Phil bother you this morning?”

For a moment Dream keeps quiet and when it does come, his voice just barely slips past his lips. “George...”

The pieces don’t fit. Techno fumbles with them in his mind, tries to piece them together like a puzzle until they do match up. A stagnant, blue melancholy gathers and pools in his chest. He lets it blossom and ratify through this ribs where a warm trace trails behind. Bringing his free hand up from his side and letting go of Dream’s unreciprocal hand, his fingers graze by the edges of the curves ceramic.

“Is this ok?” He steps closer, too close, catches a glimpse of Dream’s feet inch to retreat and hears how his breath seems to itch just slightly. Techno’s words spill like syrup into the unexplored proximity.

“Yeah.”

His fingertips trace along the sides on the mask. The smoothness glides with ease under the pad of his fingers as he dwells over the occasional raised line of a crack or starched off paint. With one hand, he reaches behind Dream’s head, his hair tickles his skin as he clicks the metal clasp open. When it comes undone under his hand, he holds the mask up for a moment longer, holds his breath. And it shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s seen Dream’s face enough to clearly picture it his mind even with the sigh hindered. Yet, as he slowly lets Dream’s face be uncovered an entirely different feeling swells in him compared to when he’d yanked it off the first time.

“Dream, you can’t just not let yourself have anything,” when his hands touch again, the cold, hard ceramic is replaced by the warmth of Dream’s skin. Techno’s fingers catch slightly on some stubble by Dream’s ear and it makes his fingers tingle that much brighter. “If you want a best friend talk to him, I’m sure he misses you too.”

Wide eyes stare back at him. Trembly and tentative, they look for something on Techno’s face they can quite seem to find.

“And I know that letting anything or anyone close always implies a risk, but... wouldn’t you rather take a risk than do nothing and maybe regret it?” He steps even closer, feels Dream’s warmth grow hotter in the tighter space, “You yourself told me not it’s self-deprivation and yes, maybe people can become a weakness but they can take care of themselves you don’t have to always worry.” Techno can see Dream think about it and his eyes drift lower to linger over Dream’s lips, “I’m sure George can take care of himself,” he tips Dream’s face in his hands and presses on, voice growing lower, “I can take care of myself too.”

“Do it,” Dream’s voice is just as low and strained, hands going to grip onto Techno’s wrists as he sends Dream an uncertain look, “What you want to do, I know it, you can do it.”

And so he tries.

Even closer, he leans in, Dream leans into his hands, Techno’s lips lean just over Dream’s. He shouldn’t—he shouldn’t—but-he can’t not take his own advice, taken from Dream’s advice. He tells himself just do it, but he only gets a graze of surprisingly soft skin. It sparks an anxious thrill to slither past his mouth and into his stomach. There, it swirls, makes him want to rip his skin off in the desire to touch both again and nevermore. 

But he does and he dives in again. More driven, determined to savor it—him—really. The metallic, sulfurous scent of gunpowder kicks his senses, nails digging into his wrists with more intent. Dream’s lips caress across his and Techno lets his hands sink into Dream’s hair. It’s thicker and rougher than his own and Techno pulls him in, further in, close—impossibly closer even where there’s no more space to possibly be pulled into. 

Maybe it’s ok, maybe it’s not scary. The cold spikes piercing through his stomach seem to have started to quieten down, nerves smoothening under the buzzy press of Dream’s lips. It’s liberating, in a way. If he can just turn his thoughts off—have his thoughts turned off so sweetly. It can be ok then. He no longer has to worry so much.

Techno sighs. Briefly they part, but just as quickly Dream reaches a hand to grip into the front of Techno’s cloak and shirt. He’s scared, for a moment, all his apprehensive thoughts bursting back in, a rush to flood his hazed head. Dream’s pushing him back and Techno’s eyes snap back open but before he can even manage to blink Dream’s mouth is back on his with even more fervor. It crashes onto him like a rogue wave under clear skies. He hisses, a bite catching onto his lip and a gentler, almost soothing lick to back it up. There’s no trace of an apology in the smirk he can feel against his lips but as his hands fall to grab Dream’s waist a breathy sigh tumbles onto his mouth.

“Maybe—“ Dream says, hushed and breathless, grip yielding to splay his hand against Techno’s chest, “maybe we _can try.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaa ok so there’s that. This took way longer than I thought to update cause studying necessities decided last week was a nice week to kill me together with being sick :,) which I still am but I always am so nothing new lmao. I don’t know what I think about this fic or if I like it or not but if you’re reading this I hope you enjoyed :p
> 
> *Veni, vidi, vici: latin saying, “I came, I saw, I conquered”, to refer to a quick and powerful victory

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so months ago I had randomly written the first 300 words of this and now told myself hmm what if I write more and see where it takes me? 
> 
> This was supposed to be a one shot but I’ve heard people don’t like one shots that are 10k words or something like that so I figured I could split it up. 
> 
> I tried to write this without overthinking it because I always do that and stress too much so idk how this is but eh what can I do, I guess it’s better to write something that may not be too good over something that stresses me so here you go!
> 
> Idk when I’ll post next part because I haven’t finished it yet but am very close (I think)   
> I just felt like posting this part tonight for some reason and who am I to say no lmao
> 
> (Lowkey getting kinda anxious posting but NO I HAVE TO DO THIS ITS FINE)


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